


Ten Months of Drought

by Xekstrin



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A reunion set after the finale of vol3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Months of Drought

Their reunion was blood and teeth. At least fifty Grimm in the lobby of an old bank. 

A modern lost world, filled with crumbling buildings next to miles left entirely intact, the glass coated in dust yet without a crack to mar the surface. Not even vines could grow there, choke the life from a stone. Every sign of wreckage was Grimm or human-made, remnants of one final, explosive conflict.

Yang’s hair curled and coiled, a mass of white-hot gold that steamed the humid air. Grimm corpses dissolved around her, piled shoulder-high. 

For a while they were quiet, waiting for the next wave. It had been so easy to fall into their old routine; the instant they saw each other the steps came back, like they had never been apart. 

But now there was nothing between them but ten months of silence.

Wafts of heat rose from Yang’s body, the temperature so intense it made the air ripple, liquid, like a mirage. Her eyes were red and blank with rage, staring at the floor in front of her as her chest twitched with every staggered breath.  


Blake was terrified.

She kept her mouth firmly shut, unable to tear her eyes away from Yang. 

What could she say? Where could she start?

Yang solved it for her, in a way. Falling back on old habits. After a successful hunt they had a ritual. Yang strode over to her, flames licking her every step, and lifted a prosthetic arm with the fist clenched tightly.

Her heart plummeted at the sight, guilt thicker than nausea. 

“You gonna fist bump me or what?” Yang said, and Blake threw her arms around her shoulders and kissed her.

A noise of surprise left her partner’s lips. Then Yang grabbed her by the waist, pulling Blake close as the faunus scrabbled to touch her, tears streaming down her face. Yang rose to her call, clutching her by the face and holding her so that she couldn’t escape.

Blake’s back hit the crumbling wall, Yang’s teeth carving out ownership on her neck. They had kissed before, little fleeting, chaste things. Like birds of paradise, Blake had plucked the feathers and kept them as glittering charms, a carefully organized jewel box of tender memories.

Now she just needed to touch. Her hands were shaking with an almost animal need as she unbuckled Yang’s pants, the metal shivering and clicking like steel joints. The sight of her was a javelin through the chest and yet--

Yet she couldn’t stop crying.

She thought for so long what she would say if this moment came. 

_I’m dangerous, I’m bad for you, this is all my fault, I didn’t run away because I don’t love you I ran away because it’s all my fault, I’m the chaos magnet, I’m the one who brought the wolf howling to your door, I’m the reason you got hurt and maybe if I just stayed away maybe you would be okay, maybe it would kill me like a cancer in my lungs and make every breath pure agony but at least you would be **safe** , if only you were safe I would run, run to the ends of the earth--_

“I’m sorry--” Blake hiccupped, pulling back to wipe her cheeks furiously with the back of her sleeve. “I’m sorry, Yang, I’m so sorry---”

“Stop.” 

The words were a chilled contrast to the raw heat still boiling underneath Yang’s skin, pulsing just under the palm of Blake’s hands. 

“Just stop. Not here. Come with me.” Swallowing tightly, Yang withdrew completely, gesturing around them. “Ruby, Weiss and I were looking for a way out of the wastes and I think I found one.”

Someone might as well have dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. For a panicked instant, Blake wondered if it was too late to bolt.

But she’d already run enough.

  


* * *

  


Three weeks later and they had met up with Weiss and Ruby. Yang did not touch her once during that time, hardly spoke to her. Guilt continued to gnaw on Blake from the inside like a rabid dog.

“Trail’s gone cold again.” Yang’s voice, always ringing high and sweet, seemed to have dropped an octave from pure exhaustion. There was a faint rumble at the end of every sentence that reminded Blake of a wolf at rest, not fully committed to the hunt just yet. 

Ruby glowered, chin in her hands. “That’s the third time this month. How does a lady like Cinder just vanish into thin air?” She suddenly gripped her own head, mussing up her hair and screaming quietly. “Why didn’t she stay dang frozen like the dragon on the tower? It’s really messing up my _chosen one_ vibes!”

Weiss tossed her head to the side, shrugging shortly with her arms crossed. “A latent aspect of her maiden energy, perhaps? Let’s remember not to underestimate world-shattering power, ladies.”

“No one is doing that,” Yang said. It wasn’t sharp but her patience was obviously worn thin, the bags under her eyes looking deeper and darker than normal. Running her hand through her hair, Yang looked up at the ceiling, searching for answers. Her prosthetic was lying across Ruby’s lap so that her sister could tinker with it, quietly humming as the batteries charged. 

“Well,” Ruby said, looking between Weiss and Yang, “It’s been an exciting month, we got the band back together and we killed ten cities worth of Grimm. I think we earned a sleep in a real bed for once, huh?”

In a flutter of petals she leapt to her feet, stretching her arms above her head. “Weiss, bunk with me. I don’t want you and Yang getting snippy with each other until the early hours.”

“We weren’t getting snippy,” Weiss snipped.

“You were getting there, I know you two. Now come on.” Ruby grabbed her partner by the wrist, dragging her to the door that divided their rooms. “Good night, team!”

She slammed the door shut, and Blake and Yang were alone again. They hadn’t exchanged more than the absolute necessary amount of syllables to cooperate until they were out of the wastelands, but now...

Yang crawled into her bed without a word, turning her back on Blake and for all intents and purposes, falling asleep. On the other side of the room, Blake laid on top of the sheets, hands folded over her stomach, staring at the ceiling.

It was hard to sleep under a blanket. Hard to sleep at all, without one of them keeping watch. She kept her boots on, her weapon close by. It was soothing, a reminder of her childhood. 

“I wanted you to stay,” Yang said tightly.

Blake’s ears twitched, free atop her head. They pivoted, angled towards Yang, who still hadn’t moved. The space between the twin beds felt like an endless chasm, a trap-riddled pit.

“I shouldn’t have to chase after you. And I didn’t. I’m done chasing after people. I found you completely by accident. I didn’t think about you even once, I didn’t look for you.”

“I know,” Blake said quietly. She would have noticed Yang a long time ago if she felt like she were being tracked.

Throwing her blankets off of her, Yang twisted around to glare at Blake. “So why did you leave?!” she demanded, clapping her palm to her chest, gesturing to herself. “I could have died! And when I woke up in the hospital, _Sun_ had to be the one to tell me you took off!” Her eyes flashed red. “...You didn’t even come check to see if I was okay!”

Blake stayed where she was, mouth glued shut.

Disgusted, Yang flopped back down, tension coiling visibly in the way she hunched her shoulders together. 

All night, Blake scented salt in the air.

  


* * *

  


Another video call with Ciel confirmed the worst: Atlas was beginning to fall. The signs were all there. A complete shutdown of crime-- except for Dust thievery. Mechs vanishing under heavy guard. Strange power fluctuations. Unrest with the local faunus population. 

And students going missing.

It was the warning signs of a terminal disease and the local police were just treating the symptoms.

“At least she can’t infiltrate the school anymore?” Yang said, sounding miserable. “Since we know what she looks like.”

“But Neo can,” Ruby said. “Tomorrow we’re meeting with some hotshots from the Schnee corporation. But tonight, uh...” 

Their leader suddenly averted her eyes, fiddling with the clasps on her cape. 

“Tonight, uh... uh, Mr. Schnee wants to see me. And Weiss.” She paused again. “Just us.”

“Meeting the parents, huh? Remember which fork is for salad and which is for the main course, my dear little sister.” 

“Yang, shut up.”

“Do you want us to wait nearby?” Blake asked, in all seriousness treating this like another mission. “We can come in at a moment’s notice if you feel unsafe.”

“It’s my father, Blake, not a mob boss.”

Blake’s whole head moved with the motion of her rolling eyes. If she rolled them any harder they might just keep on rolling down the hall, across the block, bumbling down the piers and into the sea.

This time the four of them had decided to bunk together in one room. It was safer, for one thing, and more comfortable. Slowly the habits they’d formed at school were taking over again.

Surprising her, Yang’s cold, metal arm stroked once down Blake’s back. “Well, Blake and I will still be here if anything goes wrong. You know my number.”

“Mmhmm,” Blake said, distracted by the simple touch and by how desperately she wanted it to happen again.

  


* * *

  


Two queen-sized beds. Blake took the one on the right side of the room out of habit, and paused as she saw Yang doing the same. She switched gears at once without a word, heading to the other one and plopping down on top of the covers, hands on her stomach, eyes on the ceiling.

“Going to bed?” Yang asked. 

Blake shook her head.

“...Just... lying there, huh?”

Blake shrugged.

And then a pillow hit her on the side of the head, startling her upright.

“If you’re going to insist on tagging along,” Yang said, “Can you at least do me the favor of not being a silent, creepy weirdo with frustratingly vague intent?”

“I’ve always been a silent, creepy weirdo, Yang,” Blake pointed out. “Maybe you forgot.”

“Yeah, I forgot what a huge pain in the ass you are!”

“That’s your problem. Not mine.”

Yang’s hand tightened into a fist, her lips twisting in anger. Not bothering to grab her prosthetic, she threw her jacket over her shoulders and left the room, door slamming behind her.

  


* * *

  


Blake fell into a light, trance-like sleep. She knew she needed to rest, but the idea of surrendering completely to the dark filled her with anxiety. 

_Can’t sleep without the other three around to watch my back._

How odd that she had already become dependent on them. It was like Beacon all over again, her wild instincts tamped down like an ember under a heel. 

Making friends had been like pulling teeth. She’d always figured there wasn’t enough space in her heart for that. Now it felt like a permanent vacancy.

When she felt the knee on the edge of the bed, Blake was instantly alert. Her body tensed, aura readying to slip away from the attack under the cover of shadows.

But it was just Yang, inching her way onto the bed.

Awkward as always, Blake kept quiet as her--- girlfriend? Ex?-- put her only arm around the faunus and cuddled close, face pressed to the crook of her neck.

“Awake?” Yang asked quietly. 

The moonlit room was bright as daylight for Blake. She swallowed, turning her head to look at Yang.

“Mm,” Blake said, and the sight of lilac eyes made the scar on her abdomen ache.

Yang lowered her head again, holding Blake tight as she could. “I’m sorry.”

For what? Blake couldn’t tell. Yang hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t hurt anyone. As far as Blake was concerned, Yang couldn’t hurt a fly. The fear she’d felt over Yang’s bluster, that endless confidence bordering on arrogance, had long since fled. 

She knew her now.

Knew that Yang was the normal one, the good one. And that Blake was the monster, the one sinking her claws in and dragging Yang into danger under the guise of _justice_ and _the right thing_ and _only we can do this._

Watching her in fascination, chest tight with love, Blake spiralled deeper into guilt and self-loathing. She thought Yang was incredibly strong, brave, to trust her like this. 

Incredibly foolish, too, but that applied to all four of them.

“Why did you stick around now after running away for so long?” Yang asked.

“Dunno.”

Yang reached down suddenly, pinching Blake on her hips. The faunus squeaked, twitching away. “Don’t give me that bullshit.”

So, turning that they were lying chest-to-chest, Blake leveled a serious gaze at her. “Because you asked me to. I left because I thought you’d never want to see my face again.”

Yang stared at her, dumbstruck for an instant. “I don’t know whether to slap you or kiss you. You spent ten months in the wastes--”

“I was in other places, too.”

“--instead of just-- I don’t know--” she dragged her hand through her hair. “Asking me how I felt?”

Blake shrugged. “Seemed arrogant to even contemplate the possibility of forgiveness.”

“I’m really going to slap you, now.”

“Please don’t.” Unexpectedly, Blake’s eyes begin to sting again. Years of schooling herself to be calm, to keep her emotions in check. All of it was weak in the face of her friends. “Then I’d really know you didn’t want to see me again.”

“Come here.”

They squeezed closer together, Yang’s arm looped around the back of Blake’s neck. Yang kissed the top of her head, then scooted down to kiss her lips. Blake groaned at the affection, given so freely, soaking it in like the starving creature she was.

Yang felt it too, or needed it as badly as she did. The sparks fanned and caught fire, dry after years of drought, of deprivation.

Suddenly she couldn’t touch her enough. Blake nearly tore the shirt off of Yang, rolling them so that Yang was pinned underneath her. There was a struggle for clothes, everything coming off until they could touch skin-to-skin, and Yang was hissing, “Come on-- come on--”

Yang grit her teeth, a sound high enough to be a squeak leaving her mouth anyway as she arched her back-- and finally gasped-- “ _Blake_ \--”

The sound of her own name sent a row of shivers down her spine.

“Yes?” she whispered, worried she’d break the spell. “Are you okay?”

“...Can we turn on the light?” Yang said, very quietly, and Blake was struck with the remembrance that Yang was completely blind in the dark. 

_Of course! You idiot!_

She flicked it on in a rush, returning to Yang quickly. She missed her even in that short time apart, especially with her job half done. She wouldn’t rest until Yang had been pleasured, until she made her feel as good as she could. She wanted to give and give-- whatever Yang wanted. Everything she could ever ask for. 

“You’re so strong.” This time she said it out loud, messy fingers brushing Yang’s bangs back so she could kiss her brow. “God, I love you so much.” Her hand slipped down again, savoring the feel of Yang, sopping wet, the scent so strong she could nearly taste it. 

She never once thought of treating Yang’s orgasm like she treated her own. Quick and rough, stroking efficiently to relieve period pains or to help her sleep. Or even, occasionally, to slake that annoying, burgeoning libido that had appeared once she no longer had to fear for her life every night. 

The desire that felt like a noose, prickling under her skin, an aching pain with no evident wound. 

It burned her up inside now, cranked up to feverish intensity every time she stroked with the barest hint of penetration, relishing the softness, the temptation of losing herself inside the woman who was eager to take her-- all of her.

It wasn’t something she had a lot of experience with, to say the least.

Kissing Yang, she found her clit, stroking idly just around it. Yang’s pulse pounded in Blake’s ears and thrummed against her fingertips, her words dissolving into meaningless, mindless pleas. Her orgasm shook Blake to the core, feeling every twitch and spasm as Yang screamed, body stiffening up.

Then she seemed to melt, glowing softly with the light of her aura. Melted butter and honey, sweet as cream when Blake lifted her fingers to her mouth and licked herself clean, not tearing her eyes away from Yang as she did so.

Yang smiled.

You know how you don’t realize how much pain you’re in until it all goes away?

Blake saw her smile and realized it had been nigh on a full year since she had seen it. The lazy, half-lidded eyes, the sunshine in her laugh. 

How madly, deeply, intensely she had fallen in love with this girl.

How hard it had been to leave.

Yang’s hand reached up, stroking a palm over the swell of Blake’s hip. “You good?” she murmured, still riding her high.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Blake said out of habit, even though her whole body screamed for relief. Her arousal was slick on her own thighs, and she wondered if Yang’s nose was sensitive enough to smell it. Or if she was content to lounge in her own pleasure, senses dulled and relaxed. 

“Too late for that.” Blinking away her haziness, some of the sharp hunger had returned to Yang’s gaze. “Stay still.”

Scooting lower, she eased Blake’s legs apart so that she lay rested between them, her golden hair fanned out underneath her as she took Blake in her mouth. 

Blake gasped in confusion, not wanting to speak. A low rumble grew deep in her chest, embarrassingly feral and growing louder every time Yang stroked with her tongue. 

“God, you are so wet.”

The whisper, sounding almost awed. And then another languorous swipe, from entrance to clit, and Blake’s orgasm hit her like the hammer of a gun. It pounced, knocking her nearly breathless as she trembled and tried to remember how to breathe. 

Both hands clutched onto Yang’s skull tightly as she lost control and ground her hips down, whittled into a creature of instinct that followed pleasure wherever it could be sought. 

She was starved for pleasure. A life of denial, denial, denial. Restriction, physical and mental. The bow on her head and her teeth between her tongue and the rules and regulations of the White Fang as it grew more and more militant. 

She flopped back, angling her hips so that she rested more on Yang’s chest and not her face. Laughing, Yang wiped her mouth clean, grinning at Blake.

“That was pretty cool,” she said, still grinning like a little sunbeam. “Hehe. Made you come.”

“Y-yeah,” Blake agreed, still winded. She collapsed next to Yang, the pillows blessedly cool against her sweating forehead. Maybe there should have been more fanfare for losing her virginity, but right now she was just feeling satisfied and tired. “It’s... hard sometimes.”

Yang clicked her tongue, winking. “Ooh. Tell me more.”

Blake nearly choked. “I mean it’s _difficult_.” Turning her back to Yang, she crossed her arms. “Jerk.”

But she must really be happy, if she was back to her naughty self. Even if it was just for now, until they could find another place to relax, it made Blake’s heart glad.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” 

Yang coiled around her, hands and legs tangled together. 

They’d have the next few hours alone, at least.

After that, it was all up to them.

**Author's Note:**

> A commission for sachiel21 on tumblr. Thanks so much for your patronage!


End file.
